I DO NOT WANT NOTES. Like AT ALL. At this point the script is completed and being read around town, and I've already worked this scene a number of times. In fact, if you're on Done Deal you can find the thread where I workshopped this scene. Anyway, here's the final product:
FADE IN:
EXT. PUBLIC LIBRARY - RAINY DAY
It might as well be night, as evil as that sky is. The rain is POURING hard on the pavement in front of the library. Only one car in the parking lot.
A Jeep Cherokee pulls up.
INT. PUBLIC LIBRARY - RAINY DAY
Budget cuts have hit this place hard, but there's still a bank of five-year-old computers near the entrance.
YANCY, fifties, graying, well-worn bifocals, hums as he fiddles with a few cables at the back of one of the machines. Only one light is on in the empty room.
A fist BANGS on the door.
Yancy pops up. He can barely make out a small figure in the rain.
He motions to the sign posting the hours of operation.
The fist bangs again.
He stands up and walks to the door. He points to the sign.
The figure, now clearly identifiable as a GIRL wearing a backpack, makes a motion of pleading. She's drenched.
Yancy opens the door a crack.
YANCY
I'm sorry, the library is closed on Mondays.
GIRL
(Southern accent)
Please! Honey, can I just use the phone? Mine died, and my car...
He nods, waves her inside.
She shuffles inside where we get a good look at her.
LANA. A young 30 something, wet hair clinging to her face. Absurdly hot. You want to ask her out, but you're afraid she'll eat your head after she fucks you.
Yancy hands her his cell phone.
YANCY
Here. If you-
Her phone rings. Warrant's "Cherry Pie." She ignores it.
She shoves his phone in her pocket.
LANA
This place is so quiet. I like it. Y'all still got that Dewey system?
YANCY
Listen, miss, I don't have time to-
LANA
Oh I apologize, Yancy. How rude of me. I'm Lana.
She waves, bright smile.
He begins to hyperventillate.
LANA
You got that Child Called It? I heard that's a good book.
YANCY
I didn't do it. Whatever it is, I swear. I'm not the one.
LANA
Joe thinks you got his money.
YANCY
I don't! Oh God, that's not me! I told Carl!
He falls on the floor, grabs her leg and pleads. Lana tries to shake him off. This is uncomfortable.
YANCY
Call Carl! Why would I tell him about missing money if I'm the one who stole it?
LANA
Please get off me, honey.
He clings even tighter.
YANCY
Call Carl! Please!
She tries to shake him loose, to no avail.
LANA
GET OFF!
YANCY
PLEASE!
She sighs, pulls a gun out and shoots him in the foot. He screams and lets go to nurse his injury.
LANA
Listen, honey. I'm a nice girl. I don't do that whole bamboo under the fingernail shit, but if you paw at me again I will shoot off your shriveled old Willy, put a knife in your gut and leave you to bleed to death. Are we clear?
He nods, weeping over his foot.
YANCY
Ask Carl. I told Carl.
LANA
You tell anybody else?
YANCY
I don't know... um.... I don't know!
Lana shoots him in the shin. He shouts. Her phone starts to ring again. "Cherry Pie."
YANCY
NO! Only Carl! I don't have the money I swear!
LANA
I know, honey.
She shoots him in the head. Picks up the still ringing phone.
LANA
(into the phone)
Elliot how many fucking times have I told you not to call until the job's done?
She wipes Yancy's phone of fingerprints, tosses it on his body.
LANA
No, I didn't find the money. Idiot died first.
She searches his wallet. Pulls out a twenty.
LANA
I know. You think you know somebody, then they steal your shit. You gonna have my payday in the right box this time?
(beat)
Don't get all huffy, honey, it's not my fault you're such a goddamn fuck-up.
She hangs up.
She dials a saved number.
LANA
(into the phone)
He's dead. You're in the clear.
She throws the phone down.
She looks at the body.
LANA
Let's rock and roll, honey.
She reaches into her backpack and pulls out a bottle of bleach.
She starts pouring it over the body.
LANA
(to the tune of "Cherry Pie")
She's my Cherry Pie. Motherfucker's dying and he don't know why.
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